


Hawkeye's Return

by fullmetalscully



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Best Friends, Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Havolina, Hurt/Comfort, Ishval Civil War, Pre-Canon, Royai - Freeform, but not the focus, these two are best friends and you can pry that hc from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23737372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetalscully/pseuds/fullmetalscully
Summary: Hawkeye returns to Central after being stationed in Ishval, awaiting reassignment. Havoc invites her out for a drink upon her return, only to see his old friend has changed.
Relationships: Jean Havoc & Riza Hawkeye, Rebecca Catalina/Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Hawkeye's Return

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my wips for over a year (it was originally for camp nano last year) and i finally found a plot for it that really caught me and wouldn't let go
> 
> kind of a character study of hawkeye from havoc's pov, post ishval

Jean Havoc was a tall man compared to his peers. He always felt like he towered over everyone else, which was a blessing in busier areas. He could always see over crowds and pinpoint an objective or the person he was looking for. In the busy bar in East City it was easy to see over the throng of people to spot the woman he was looking for.

He was excited. Jean grinned as he recognised the back of her head. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year. Riza had just got back from Ishval last week. She’d sought him out at headquarters, appearing as if from nowhere, and Jean had asked her if she’d like to go out for a drink that Friday night to catch up.

They’d become close friends in the Academy. Riza, Jean, and Rebecca were almost inseparable as they went through basic training. However, Riza had expressed an interest in fighting in the war and given her skills, their superiors had fast tracked her to the front lines, moving her from basic training to more Ishval-specific training. A week later, she was gone from East City, and Jean hadn’t heard from her until after she returned.

He’d tried writing. He wasn’t the best at letters, much to his mother’s chagrin. Jean always found he had no idea what to say and started rambling about something that held no significance, but he tried for his best friend. Given the reports it wasn’t pretty over there. Jean knew that would be the case, even without the reports. Even if Riza didn’t feel like writing back to him, Jean had hoped she’d at least receive them and read them. It would be a comfort from home, if anything.

He hadn’t received anything in return.

Always trying to look on the bright side of things, Jean had pushed down the uncertainty and uneasy feeling that had settled in his stomach after he spotted Riza sitting at the bar, her shoulders hunched as she nursed a drink in front of her.

“Riza,” he called, his voice carrying over the ruckus.

Her shoulders tensed and Jean’s smile wavered. Still, he pushed on forwards. Jean sat on the stool beside her, leaning his elbow on the bar top and his head upon his fist. He beamed at her. Despite her posture and her reaction, he really was excited to see Riza again. It shined through as he greeted her after almost a year apart.

“Hey,” he grinned. “Long time, no see!”

Riza spun in the bar stool and Jean took in her features. She looked… different. The first thing he managed to pick out was in her eyes. Riza looked exhausted. Had she been sleeping? She’d always had some trouble sleeping in the Academy but had never looked as worn down as she did now. Not only that, her eyes looked weary. Like they’d seen too much.

Jean swallowed, turning to face the bartender as he approached, asking for Jean’s order.

“Hello, Jean.”

He picked out how her voice wavered. Glancing back across to her, he noticed how her eyes turned downwards to stare at her drink. A whisky, Jean noted. It was a little early to be starting on the whisky, Jean thought, but Riza had always been able to hold her drink better than anyone he’d ever met. Her fingertips gripped the glass tightly, the ends of her nails turning white. Letting out a breath, Riza relaxed her shoulders as the beer was placed before Jean.

“How are you?” she asked. Riza was always more reserved of their trio, softer spoken, but was never afraid to speak up and laugh along loudly with him or Rebecca. When she asked her question, Jean had to strain to hear her. She was too quiet.

Jean shrugged. “I’m doing all right. Same old, same old. Got out the Academy, finally. It felt like I was never going to pass that final exam,” he stated dramatically. He wasn’t exactly the most studious person in the world, but when he put his mind to it, he could get it done. He didn’t pass with flying colours, but a pass was a pass in his book. He didn’t care about what grade he got. Plus, he’d more than excelled in his practical and firearms training. He was guaranteed to graduate just from them anyway.

The corners of Riza’s lips quirked up, and she turned her gaze to meet his again. She didn’t shy away this time.

“How did you do?” she asked.

“I passed. That’s all I needed to know,” he chuckled, knocking back his beer. “It was horrible though,” he grimaced.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Only having Rebecca to tutor my sorry ass was awful. She can be _mean_.”

Riza laughed this time, and it lightened the weight in Jean’s stomach. Her smile reached her eyes, just like old times.

With anyone else, he wouldn’t have studied them so hard for any changes, but this was different. This was _Riza_. One of his closest friends, who’d managed to drag his stupid ass through the paperwork of the Academy and get him a passing grade. This was the woman who’d stuck up for him and taken the blame for half the dumb things he’d done. He’d misfired at the range once – no one was hurt, and it was all downrange, but their instructor had been furious – and while Jean stood there panicking, Riza stepped in before him, announcing to their instructor that it was her. The Colonel liked Riza – and hated Jean for some unknown reason – so just scowled at her, berated her, stating he expected better from Riza Hawkeye. She was dismissed with nothing further. If it had been Jean, he’d be cleaning the toilets at the range with his own personal toothbrush for a month.

So, Jean was really worried for her wellbeing. He hadn’t known what would be coming back to him. He still didn’t. Physically, nothing was amiss. Mentally however… She was still an eighteen-year-old who’d been shipped off to war. That would take its toll on the strongest of minds – and Riza had the strongest in the world, Jean had always thought.

“I hope she wasn’t too tough on you,” Riza smiled, relaxing and becoming more comfortable the more they talked.

“Nah,” Jean waved Riza off. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I’m sure,” she stated, a wry smile overtaking her face as she shot him a sideways look. Her smile hid behind her glass as she took a sip.

Jean coughed, feeling his face heating up. “Nothing happened.”

“Uh hu.” She didn’t believe him.

He was a terrible liar, Riza and Rebecca had always told him. And they were right.

“Okay, it _did_ , but nothing much else has happened.”

“I knew it,” she grinned, eyes lighting up.

Jean scoffed and turned his gaze away while Riza laughed to herself, far too pleased about the progression of his and Rebecca’s relationship… Or whatever it was.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

“You were chasing after her for months. Finally plucked up the courage, huh?” Riza teased.

“More like I was hounded into it,” he grumbled, which earned an elbow in the ribs from Riza. It made him smile.

“Rebecca’s not like that,” she admonished.

Jean took another drink. “No, she’s not. She’s…” He could almost sigh, thinking about her.

“Aw,” Riza cooed.

Snapping out of it, Jean gave himself a shake. “Anyway, nothing much else has happened. We both got busy –”

Riza snorted and Jean glared at her for the insinuation.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Hawkeye,” he scolded. “Our _lives_ just got busy. Although,” he smirked. “Graduation night was last week and that was fun.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Shaking her head, Riza chuckled and smiled at him.

“I’m happy for you both. Truly, I am. Just make sure you don’t let her go.”

“I won’t, I promise. I know a good thing when I see it.”

The lapsed into silence and Jean watched Riza as she downed the last of her whisky, ordering another. He was happy. It was almost like old times.

“What?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

“Nothing, it’s just… It’s good to see you again,” he smiled softly. “I missed you.”

As her drink was handed to her, she gripped it tight once more. “I missed you too. I missed being home.”

“Probably a dumb question, but you know me,” he winked, trying to lighten the dark mood that suddenly seemed to cling to her body completely. “But how are you doing?”

Her face dropped and that weight in Jean’s stomach went with her expression. His stomach tightened and he had the distinct feeling he’d ruined the happy moment they’d found themselves in.

“I’m… all right.”

It was a practised response. Jean could see right through it. Her shoulders had tensed and if she held her glass any tighter, Jean thought it might shatter from the pressure.

“Are you sure?” he probed. He wasn’t normally one to hover or push, but he was worried about her. He couldn’t help himself, not when she looked as stricken as she did.

Riza took a deep breath then let it out shakily, lifting the glass to her lips. She took a long gulp of the whisky before lowering it, her hands shaking. Jean was instantly alert. Maybe getting drinks wasn’t such a good idea.

“Not here,” she whispered. Jean leaned forward automatically to hear her. Once it registered, his heart thudded inside his chest. “Please.”

Glancing at her face, he noticed just how much she was pleading with him.

“All right,” he agreed. If it were him, he wouldn’t want to get into anything like fighting in a war in a busy bar in East City. But he wouldn’t let it go.

The rest of their night he’d brushed it off for the moment and tried to lighten the mood. Slowly, Riza had come back to him and they’d eventually had a good time. As she laughed, her head tipped back to her hair tumbled down her back, Jean grinned at her and almost forgot about the tight ball inside his stomach, symbolising his worry for his friend. Almost.

She’d received his letters. She stuttered, her face falling when she stated she couldn’t reply to him, but Jean quickly told her not to worry about it. From her tone, it sounded like she couldn’t bring herself to reply to him. He waved it off like it was no big deal, because it wasn’t. Jean reassured her he was just happy she’d received them. That was enough for him. It always had been.

“Thank you for tonight. I really needed it,” Riza added after letting out a long breath.

They were outside the barracks where Riza was staying. It was passed midnight so everywhere was dark. There was no one about to overhear them.

Jean nodded. “Anytime, Riza. You know that.”

Her smile wavered then her face crumpled. Alarmed, Jean froze. Then, a gasping sob reached his ears and he lunged for his friend. Her sorrow kicked him into action. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders in comfort as Riza covered her face with her hand.

“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get you inside.”

“No,” Riza shook her head, extracting herself from his hold. “I’m all right, I…”

“You’re not,” Jean called her out.

“I am. Really, I am. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.”

“I’m not leaving you like this,” Jean frowned. “Let’s get inside, then we can talk about it.”

That last part set off alarm bells inside her head, because her whole body tensed.

Jean wrapped his arm around her shoulders once more. Starting to walk, he hoped it was in the right direction. He wished he’d asked her where exactly she stayed and planned ahead, but that was never his forte. That was more Riza’s speciality after a night of drinking.

“Jean, really, it’s okay,” she whispered but didn’t fight him as they walked. Her hands clutched her purse in front of her, her head bowed forward.

“Still not leaving you,” he muttered. “Plus, you’ve helped me out more times than I can count. It’s about time I returned the favour.”

She was silent as they walked and Jean tried to clear his head, taking deep, cleansing breaths of the cool night air. He wished he hadn’t drunk so much.

“In here,” Riza directed, slowing and turning to angle her body towards her temporary accommodation. Her hands were shaking as she unlocked the door.

Jean stepped inside and noted how bare the place looked. The room looked like it had never been lived in. It was straight out the accommodation catalogue the military always passed out, but shouldn’t bother with, because all the bunks looked exactly the same.

“How long have you been back?” Jean asked as Riza locked the door behind her.

“Just over a week.”

Jean nodded, noting how there wasn’t even a moving box lying anywhere. She’d unpacked, yet her place was still bare. That wasn’t unusual for Riza, but at least at the Academy she’d had books lying around – both fictional and those she used to study. There was _some_ character to her living space. Some indication that someone lived there. Now there was nothing. Jean couldn’t even see that photograph she’d always had next to her bed of the boy she’d grown up with.

Turning in place, Jean’s heart broke for his friend. She looked so uncertain in her own room. Her purse had been tossed on her bed, breaking the perfectly pulled tight sheet atop of it. Even that was still the military standard brown and moss green. Now, her hands were free to wring themselves together in front of her.

“What’s going on with you, Riza?” he asked.

She cringed. “Noth –”

“Bullshit,” Jean interrupted before she could even finish. Yes, Jean had never been one to press and invade in her personal life more than she wanted anyone too, but he would still call her out on her shit. She couldn’t lie to him. Not tonight.

“It…”

He held his breath, hoping and _praying_ she’d continue. Jean just wanted her to be okay. He wanted his friend to be happy, but something told him that the war had ripped all of that from her. Regardless of what had happened over there, he’d still love her. He’d still support her and try to work through it because that’s what friends did. They both knew what they were signing up for when they joined the military.

Jean had struggled with it at first, but Riza had helped him through it, telling him that if an enemy was threatening all she held dear, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. He’d always marvelled at her strength and her resolve, vowing that he would always try and do his best to make her proud. Jean drew on her strength more than she would ever know.

Now, her own mind and her experiences were the enemy. Jean would sure as hell fight that with her and help her through it.

“It was horrible over there,” she whispered.

Jean relaxed, seeing that they would get somewhere with this. He stepped forward but stopped when he noticed the look on her face. Her gaze was cast off to the side while her hands became more frantic, wringing together.

“It wasn’t war. It was an extermination campaign.”

Jean swallowed. The military had kindly left that part out of all their news from the front.

“But they were good fighters. _So_ good. That’s why they brought in the State Alchemists, to decimate them. I was drafted in as back up to protect them as a sniper.” Riza let out a loud shaky breath. “I… I killed people, while they were only trying to defend themselves.” She let out a sob, her face crumpling. “I hid in a tower and took lives to protect my own countrymen so they could slaughter innocents.”

Jean had his arms wrapped around her tightly in record time. He squeezed her against his body while Riza Hawkeye cried against his chest. That in itself was frightening. He’d never seen her cry before, however, Jean was glad. She was obviously comfortable enough to share it with him.

“You did what you had to do,” he murmured. He felt helpless. He couldn’t think of anything else to say that would make it better. There _was_ nothing that would make it better. So, Jean just held her tightly.

“And… I saw him again.”

Jean instantly knew who she was talking about.

“How was he?”

“A State Alchemist. Flame Alchemy.”

Jean audibly swallowed. He’d never heard of that kind of alchemy before and had no idea where someone would acquire such a thing. Jean could only imagine the destruction one could cause with it.

“Yeah. I was so angry with him at first,” Riza admitted. Her hands gripped his jacket tighter. “I couldn’t believe what he was doing. That wasn’t the boy I grew up with. The boy I –” Her mouth snapped shut. Obviously, the drink was drawing more out of than she planned.

“You what?”

“Nothing,” she quickly replied.

“Riza, this isn’t going to work if you don’t let it all out,” he prompted.

It was silent for some time. Riza was obviously gearing herself up to admit her feelings, but Jean already knew she loved that boy she’d grown up with. It was clear as day in the way she spoke about him, which hadn’t been often. However, Riza didn’t keep childhood photos of just anyone by her bedside. She didn’t look at it fondly while he, Riza, and Rebecca were all sitting on her bed, drinking at night.

“That wasn’t the man I loved. I didn’t think he’d ever do such a thing, but he did.”

“And?” he prompted. “What happened after that?”

“But… The longer I spent over there, the more my eyes opened. The way the COs were talking about the Ishvalans… It didn’t take long to slot things into place and realise that it was an extermination campaign. Every order was designed that way. We were sent into villages that didn’t even house any fighters, but my superiors told me they were there. It was just woman and children.”

Jean felt like he might vomit.

“And… And then they _congratulated_ me on my work.”

Jean swallowed his vomit.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Riza began to pull away from him, but Jean secured her in his arms once more.

“I… I don’t know what to say to make this better for you,” he whispered. “I really don’t. I’m not good with words, you know that. But we both understood what it was we were getting ourselves into when we signed up. I just didn’t expect to discover about the true harshness of it fresh out the Academy.”

“Welcome to the club,” she muttered.

“But I’m here for you, Riza. I’m not going to turn and run. We support each other. Me, you, and Rebecca. That’s what we do, and I’m not going to give up now.”

“You should,” she whispered against him. “I’m a monster.”

“I will be too, when I’m called up to fight. We all will be, in our own minds. Well, the soldiers that have a big enough conscience.”

Riza shuddered in his arms.

“So, what do you do now? How do you right your wrongs?”

Riza was silent once more. She seemed to be struggling with something.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this or not… But Major Mustang is planning on working his way up the ranks to Fuhrer. He wants to prevent another Ishval from happening again.”

“I’m in.”

Riza peeled her head up to squint at him.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Jean let go of her, bringing his hands to her shoulders. He softened his knees, so he was eye level with her. “I’ve got your back, Riza.”

Riza crushed him against her. Jean brought a hand to her back, rubbing circles on it.

“I don’t know what I would do without you right now,” she whispered.

“Oh, you’d be fine,” he waved her off. “You’re the super soldier, remember?” he quipped, calling back to their Academy days when Rebecca had joked Riza was some kind of super soldier because of how good she was at shooting.

“I don’t feel like one right now,” she murmured. “I feel dirty and ashamed.”

“That’s okay,” Jean reminded her gently. He placed his fingers underneath her chin, lifting her head so she was looking directly at him. “That means you’re _human_. Hell, you’re already plotting to overthrow the Fuhrer. That sounds pretty super soldier to me.”

It had managed to draw a laugh from her. A little one, but it was there. That was all Jean needed.

“You’re already trying to right your wrongs, Riza. That speaks volumes.”

“I hope so,” she muttered.

A loud yawn left her, and her eyes drooped. She looked physically and mentally exhausted. The dark circles underneath her eyes became more prominent in the low light of her room.

“You need sleep,” Jean commented.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t exactly come easily for me nowadays though.”

“Hop in,” Jean commanded, ushering her towards her bed.

“What?”

He flopped down before her, opening his arms.

Riza raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m lying down now and I ain’t moving. So, you can choose, sleep on the floor or come join me.”

Sobering slightly, Riza shifted from foot to foot. Whatever debate she was having in her head, she gave in. kicking off her shoes, Riza climbed in beside him. Jean wrapped her tightly in her arms.

He didn’t know if what he said had gotten through to her. In the morning, he wasn’t sure if she’d remember it all. Jean hoped so, but he could never tell how drunk she was. Riza was always a damn pro at hiding it. Regardless, he would support her. They’d get through this together.

“You should probably go though,” Riza fretted, turning to face him in his arms. “It’s against the rules to have someone overnight –”

“I know,” he reminded her softly. “But it’s the weekend and I’m still not leaving you when you obviously need someone.”

“Jean,” she geared up to argue, but sounded so very tired.

“Fuck ‘em,” he muttered, pulling her tighter against his body. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be a last. You went to war for them and got paid in dirt. I’ll tell them where to go if they come knocking,” he yawned, relaxing into her bed.

Riza was silent, but she curled against him.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

“Not a problem, Riza,” he mumbled. “You’re stuck with me anyway because I’m too drunk and too tired to make it back to my place.”

Riza snorted softly. “Is that the only reason you’re here?” she asked. “To get into a woman’s bed?”

Jean laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Oh yeah,” he grinned, eyes still closed. “Absolutely.”

Riza giggled against him, shifting so she was closer to his body.

It was just like old times.

“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this,” she whispered. “I want to do it on my own terms, if I choose to do it at all.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I… I think if I hadn’t drunk so much, I wouldn’t have broken down like that –”

“You’re allowed to let go without getting drunk, Riza.”

“I know,” she admitted. “It’s just… It’s hard.”

“Well I’m honoured you think so highly of me,” Jean yawned again, fighting sleep this time.

“And… I know I said I got your letters. I did. I kept them all but…”

“You couldn’t bring yourself to reply?” he guessed.

Riza shook her head. “I couldn’t bring myself to read them,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Why?” his brow furrowed.

“I don’t know, I… I just couldn’t.” Her shoulders curled further in on themselves.

“That’s okay. Take all the time you need,” he reassured her.

“I wanted to. I really did, but… I don’t know, I just couldn’t. It was like I didn’t deserve to.”

“How about we read through them together?” he offered. It would be embarrassing to read back on his pathetic ramblings, but he’d do it for her, if she needed it.

“I’d really like that.”

“They’re nothing special anyway,” he assured her. “I just wanted you to get something from home.” He yawned loudly once more.

“Get some sleep, Jean,” Riza murmured, but he heard the smile in her voice. “And thank you so much. You’ve been a big help.”

“Anytime,” he muttered tiredly.

“And I promise I won’t tell Rebecca about this either,” she snickered suddenly.

Jean cracked an eye open to look down at her. “If you do, I’ll tell your Major friend.”

“Fighting dirty, Jean Havoc?”

“Always,” he grinned.

Although he’d been drunk, true to his word, Jean Havoc never breathed a word of what they discussed that night. Despite the drink, he remembered every minute. It was one of the most profound nights of his and Riza’s friendship. It wasn’t one he was inclined to forget.

When Jean transferred to work underneath Mustang with Riza, he could pinpoint exactly what Riza meant when he saw them both together. They shared something so deep that Jean would never be able to understand, but that was okay. He played dumb to all that had happened in Ishval until the Lieutenant Colonel brought it up himself one night. He and Riza appeared to be similar, because he’d only confided in Jean and the rest of the boys after a night of drinking. Although inebriated, there was a burning fire in Mustang’s eyes as he shared his plans with them all, asking if they were in.

Jean meant it when he told Riza he’d tell the military where to go. He was more than ready to join the fight that had taken so much from one of his best friends.

He was in. He always would be.


End file.
